


Static

by Kyky25



Category: The Property of Hate
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, TPoH Secret Santa, because this is what happens when you ask an angst writer to give gifts, but i swear it'll have a good/cute/happy-ish ending, it's mostly either RGB in physical pain, or RGB in emotional pain, or a happy-ish ending anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-30 15:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyky25/pseuds/Kyky25
Summary: RGB worries about Hero's emotional vulnerability, and finds that worries- when left unchecked- manifest in unpredictable ways.- OR -Electricity and water don't mix. Electricity and tears mix even worse.





	1. An Itch

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally written for [i-said-i-say](https://i-said-i-say.tumblr.com/) for the 2018 TPoH Secret Santa gift exchange. But life happened and writing didn't, so I thought it best to break things up into a chapter fic, just with short chapters.
> 
> I'm going to do my best to update daily until the story is completed, but please don't go waiting up late for new chapters, I'm a _teensy_ bit out of practice.
> 
> Happy holidays, and I hope you enjoy!

Hero slept, but RGB didn't. Couldn't. Instead he lay there, staring at the ice-cavern's ceiling, his hat having slid off his screen last time he turned his head to look at Hero.

He did so again. She was curled up several feet away, still asleep. Cozied beneath his jacket, her form was barely visible beneath the odd folds of fabric and shoulder padding. Twin drips of green and blue slipped off the edge of RGB's screen as he watched her, thinking on how she'd handled the snow storm earlier.

And that was the issue, wasn't it? _She_ had handled the storm, not him. Though from one angle, it could be seen as a good thing. She was The Hero after all. However, that would make him The Damsel in that particular situation, and the thought of that was enough to turn the gentle curve of RGB's smile into a scowl as he jerked his head forwards again and resumed resolutely staring at the ceiling.

Hero though she may be, there was the other side of things that worried RGB. Brave, resourceful, quick-thinking, and a little bit overly impulsive, yes. All good traits for what she was. But after they'd escaped the storm-- RGB's jacket clutched tight around his head to stop the flakes from getting into his vents, their hands iced to his cane so they didn't lose track of each other in the blinding white-- Hero had curled up in his lap, and cried.

RGB scratched at the spot on his chest where her tears had soaked in. They'd been the terrified, relieved, we-almost didn't-survive-that-but-sometimes-almost-is-enough sort of tears, and he'd gotten her to laugh and relax afterwards, but the spot still itched. Not in the way the snow had stung as the wind whipped it into his face, electricity and water don't mix, but its bite had faded soon enough. This was a crackling, staticy itch that didn't seem to want to fade. So he scratched at it.

Heroes weren't meant to cry, not over small things like this. That wasn't how the stories worked. He could understand her being scared, especially as his attempts to reassure her kept getting broken up by pops and hisses as the snow interfered with his voice. But tears? Over something like this? It was more than slightly worrying.

It was because RGB was lost in thought, staring through the translucent ice at the starless sky overhead, that he didn't notice the static budding in the centre of his chest.

It grew from his chest, soaking RGB's shirt in crackling black and white and spreading up over scratching fingers, desaturating and blurring what were once bright pink gloves. It nipped and bit at each thread of clothing, sinking into the framework of electrical _something_ that made up RGB's body. By the time he even noticed, it had already gotten halfway towards his elbow and it soaked into his suspenders.

Naturally, he panicked.

RGB sat bolt upright, screen gushing yellow. His other hand scrubbed at his static-riddled sleeve. This wasn't good. This wasn't right. He needed to _get. It. OFF._

The static took it's opportunity of a new place to spread, and when RGB withdrew his hand from his arm, frantically inspecting his palm, it too was desaturated and buzzing with white noise. He readied himself to rip his hand from his body and toss it to the other side of the cavern, mind frenzied and desperate for a solution.

Before he could tear his glove away, shards of crackling pain wracked through his body and RGB screamed.

The sound shuddered from him, hissing and popping loud enough he thought his speakers might blow from the strain. The static was up to his neck now, the base of his head, the lip of his screen. RGB tilted his head back in a futile attempt to stop himself from drowning in the visual noise that nearly coated his entire body.

He fell to his knees, unsure of when he'd stood, limbs jittering. He had just enough time to gasp out a "H-h-he-help..." before the static covered his screen and RGB collapsed.


	2. Coward

* * *

He wasn't in darkness, because there was light coming from somewhere.  
He wasn't somewhere empty, because all around him there was a blur of noise.  
He wasn't alone, because-  
He wasn't alone.

* * *

Something twisted. Then something _wrenched_.

* * *

RGB was on hands and knees, coughing and spluttering up static like a once-drowning man would clear water from his lungs. It buzzed on the edges of the primary colours that dripped from his screen, puddling on the icy ground before evaporating.

He knelt there, shivering moreso from shock than from cold. Static still crackled in his ears, the reverb from the ice-cavern making it seem more distant than it really should be. He only realised his miscalculation when a loud _‘SNAP!’_ echoed from wall to wall, fear echoing in his mind in response.

A greyscale hand closed around RGB’s cane, swiping it out of the air just as he looked up. The colours drained from the wood to match the person… the _monster_ grasping it. A single, static-scribble glared down at RGB, radiating malice.

The issue was that RGB was a coward to his core. He’d never fight where he could trick, and he’d never trick where he could run. Weasel-words permeated every facet of his speech to the point where, if asked a black-and-white question such as ‘What colour is the sky right now?’, he’d hum and haw and verbally meander around anything that could constitute a straight answer until you were so tied up in mental knots that you didn’t notice he’d made his escape five minutes ago. He was a yellow-bellied, lily-livered, pudding-hearted skitterbrook of a man, and the only reason he wouldn’t be the first in line to admit it is because the majority of his ‘friends’ would beat him to the punch.

The issue was that RGB was a coward, and faced with a monster that was just as terrible as he was… he ran.

Smooth-soled shoes slipped on the slick ice floor, but RGB dug in his toes and found grip. He pushed himself to his feet and sprinted towards the mouth of the cave, leftover nausea from the static gnawing at his balance. A miscalculated footstep had him stumbling to the side, but RGB caught himself before his head could slam into the wall and ran on.

Snow still swirled outside, the worst of the blizzard having moved on but the edges of the storm lingering. Clumps of flakes billowed into the cave on eddies, melting themselves into RGB’s sleeve as he reached for escape. Sparks crackled along his arms and from his speakers, and he felt something hook into the back of his shirt.

There was another too-loud _'SNAP!’_ and RGB hurtled backwards.

The grip that caught him was as solid as the ice surrounding him, and the look RGB received from his black-and-white lookalike was as cold as the ice as well. RGB found himself hoisted by the scruff of his shirt up to eye-level, his bowtie digging into his non-existent neck.

“N-N-Now see here, I don’t know what you want, but I didn’t-”

The Negative leaned in closer, and RGB could see the glitches radiating from it and affecting the world around them. Monochrome rectangles flickered back and forth, turning the ice into the blank grey of concrete. 

“I didn’t do anything to- There’s no need for this, I’m sure whatever it is, is just a big mistake and we can sort it all out if we just-”

The world crackled around RGB. Static hissed in his ears and his mind. Though this didn’t hurt nearly as much as the spreading, fizzing, pain from before, yellow ink ran in rivulets down RGB’s face.

“If we just _talk_. We can come to an agreement if we talk this all out, I’m certain, you seem like a reasonable ma- uh, er, monster. Is there some sort of arrangement or-”

The Negative raised its free hand, eye unwaveringly fixed on RGB, still but for the static and this one slow movement. RGB started babbling even faster.

“Or- Or a deal! Or something! Anything! Just _tell me what you want!_ ”

A finger extended from the Negative’s curled fist. Held straight, it raised to the lip of the monster’s screen, pressing vertically in a universal gesture. RGB hesitated, and, finally, he listened.

The static hissed a gentle ‘shhhhhhhhh…..’ as the Negative turned both its head and its grip on RGB in unison, until they both faced the still-sleeping lump on the ground that was RGB’s latest Hero. They stayed there, RGB’s toes barely dragging on the ground, simply watching for a long moment. Then something small but important clicked in RGB’s mind.

“Ah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna make a fuss about not updating yesterday, other than to say Migranes Are Hell.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter though!


	3. Rosebud

Cowardice can take many forms. For some it stems from the fear of letting go, and they will cling to what they have tight enough that they often don’t notice when it breaks. For some, it’s fear of the unknown, and they will stick with whatever certainties they have in case the world turns on its head the moment they look away. For some, it’s fear of rejection, of being found out and seen for who they perceive themselves to be, and so they tailor themselves to what they think is wanted by other people.

Fears can overlap and interlink, complementing and contrasting each other, even amongst similar types. Cowardice is a carefully arranged balance of dread and guilt and anxiety that often conflicts itself to the point of ruin.

RGB faced such ruin now. Glancing at the Negative out of the corner of his vision, he realised his fear of losing something- some _one_ \- was greater than his fear of being harmed. And he was forced to do something that he’d been unconsciously doing more and more as of late.

RGB was forced to be brave.

“You can’t have her.”

The Negative’s eye flicked to the side and it locked its gaze on RGB once again. The tense hum in the air solidified even more, to the point that RGB could feel the irregular vibration of it through his very being. 

“You _can’t_ have her,” he repeated, words coming out in a strained stage-whisper.

The world seemed to drop away as the Negative turned to face him fully again, its fist clenching tighter and raising higher. RGB’s feet went from only just skimming the ground to hanging about a foot from the dark ice. From this angle it felt like he was being dangled over an abyss.

“She’s not yours to take. She’s not even mine to give.” RGB’s voice somehow managed to stay steady, even as yellow and red streamed from his screen. The droplets evaporated before ever hitting the ground, only furthering the abyssal illusion. “She’s hers and hers alone.”

The Negative continued to stare. Then, slowly, it raised its free hand again, fingers fully extended but for the pinky, tucked in tight.

“Well, yes, but that was her own choice, and can I say she went _entirely_ behind my back with it. God knows what was going on in Cell’s head when she accepted that deal, though I shouldn’t expect any better from a merchant, I suppose.”

The hand lowered and the staring recommenced. Pitch black ink beaded at the Negative’s screen and vents, falling upwards in an obscene reversal of gravity. The whine of the static increased again and the glitches that radiated from the Negative’s form convulsed. It jittered around the creatures limbs, inverting the colours once more. The result was stark white streaks painted across the Negative’s legs, its hands, the top of its head. Rather reminiscent of-

“Now see here! That storm was far from my fault. I _tried_ to save her, _she’s_ the one that jumped back in and got her colours erased. Besides,” added RGB, crossing his arms. “She’s fine now. Time saw to that.”

The Negative tilted it’s head to the side like it was trying to make its mind up whether or not that excuse really counted. It must have conceded, as the reality-warping glitches drifted off again, returning to dancing at the edges of the Negative’s aura. RGB couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction.

Any and all hints of an upwards curve on RGB’s screen promptly vanished as the Negative raised its free hand for a third time. But not upwards again, oh no. This time the monochrome fingers reached _towards_ RGB.

They seemed to come at him from an endless distance, inching closer until the whole world was obscured by the outstretched hand. RGB flailed, squirmed, stuttered excuses and objections. His own hands jerked about erratically, trying to do anything to stop the inexorable advance of the Negative’s grasp without having to actually _touch_ it. But bluster and bumble without action never achieved anything, and the black-gloved hand pressed against RGB’s chest.

There was a horrible, elongated moment of stillness. RGB frozen in a parody of rejected movement. The Negative with one hand holding RGB off the floor, the other flat against the centre of RGB’s torso.

As nothing happened and continued to happen, RGB managed a wonky smile, antennae still flat against his head in fright.

“Heh, well… That wasn’t so ba-er- Ah. Aah! _Aaaaaah! AAAAAAAAAAAA̵̴͞AA͠A̢̛͟͟A̴̡̕A̛͢͜A̷̧͜A̶̧Ą̵A̶̛҉̢̟͍̪͓̮͡ͅA̧̘̳͉͞A͕̞̥̤̕͝A͝҉̡̹̖̗͢A̢̱̤̜͎͔͟͞A҉͏̘̱̜̫͕̜̘͜ͅḨ̷̹̱̬͜͠͡!̵̢̪̙͍̯̙͜_ ”

RGB’s screams dissolved into static as blue glass flowers sprouted from beneath Negative’s palm. Their golden stems rent a schism in the centre of his chest, roots crawling deep into his body.

They grew and grew and grew, covering his speakers and vents, encasing his limbs in a tangle of twisting flowers. There was no longer pain, there was no longer fear, there was only the feeling of vines and buds and roots writhing in and around him, enveloping him. The Negative dropped him to the floor, and the flowers continued to spread over RGB’s body until he was all but cocooned in gold and blue. 

The last thing he saw before the flowers completely obscured his screen was a black and white figure striding over to the small lump on the floor where Hero still slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Been a while, huh?
> 
> Well, no, it's only been a week, but that's still a fair bit longer than previous claims as to when I'd update, so I apologise for that.
> 
> The reason behind that is: I hecked up my finger and couldn't type. Sorryyyy....  
> X-rays said there was no fracture (thank the gods), but my messed-up body is constantly under a lot of strain, so even things like bone-bruising take a lot longer to heal than they realistically should. It's not 100% better, but I've been trying to do small bits of writing each day, so I did still manage to get another chapter finished. Fingers crossed the next one comes out soon.
> 
> And! Barring the chance that Accidental Plot occurs and makes things longer than expected, the next chapter should be the last one! So keep an eye out for the thrilling conclusion of this absolute mess of a secret santa present!
> 
> See you next update!


End file.
